


The Bonus

by farad



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aftermath of a bar brawl</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bonus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JoJo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/gifts).



> A short piece for Jojo's birthday. UNBETAED - all mistakes very much my own.

“Why is it that I always come away from these exchanges with blood?” Ezra sat back in his chair, wiping at the blood coming from his nose with a towel that Inez used to clean the bar. 

“Lean back,” Nathan said from across the room, where he was checking on one of the fallen, drunken cowboys who had started the fight. “Bleeding will stop sooner if you give it a chance.”

“And then I shall taste it even more,” Ezra said with a deep sigh, but he did lean back, and he closed his eyes. He was still holding the bar towel up to stem the flow of blood but Chris could see the subtle shift in the line of the purple jacket that let him know that Ezra's shoulders had relaxed. 

“He'll be fine,” a voice said close to his ear, and he managed – just barely – not to jump. Mostly from habit; he knew the voice as well as he knew Ezra's, though for different reasons. “You can tell 'cause he can't stop jawing about it.”

He did turn his head, though, to catch Tanner's amused gaze. “Whereas you ain't saying nothing,” he countered, “so you must be all right. Or dead.”

Tanner snorted, but it came with a grimace of pain. “Reckon I will be,” he said, trying to sit up straighter against the front of the bar. But the movement stopped abruptly and one hand curled around a stick of wood, a piece of the chair that had been broken over his back during the brawl. 

“Got those others locked up tight in the jail,” Buck announced coming through the saloon's swinging doors. “Whose ready to go now?”

“This one is,” Josiah said from where he was standing next to another of the brawlers. He caught the man under one arm, pulling him to his feet, over the man's resistance and whines. As he was the one who had slammed the chair into Vin's back as Vin leaned down to help Inez to her feet, Chris thought that perhaps Josiah was being too polite. 

Josiah soothed Chris' concerns by pushing the man into the wall beside the door – face first – as he turned him over to Buck. 

“This one, too,” Nathan said, rising from his crouch and helping the most injured of the lot to his feet. He was, as he was Nathan, a little more polite, but only a little. “Think he broke his hand on Ezra's face.” The cowboy had a thick cloth wrapped around one hand, holding it still. “Don't move them fingers,” Nathan said directly into the man's ear. “I'll check it again later.”

“Can you take 'em both?” Josiah asked Buck as Buck, grinning, caught the second man by the collar. 

“Surely!” Buck said cheerfully. “I can shoot 'em if they try to run, and seeing as they ain't got no guns, I think I've got the upper hand! Me and JD will be over at the jail, letting these boys get a taste of our own special punishment for upsetting Inez's place.” 

Chris did grin, then, knowing from too much personal experience what sorts of ways Buck could make a man with a hangover suffer. 

“You boys gonna be okay?” Buck did ask though as he pushed his charges toward the door. 

 

“I think I am bleeding to death,” Ezra said from where he sat, the sound of his voice more nasal than before. 

Nathan rolled his eyes but stepped toward him, tugging the cloth away so that he could see and earning a grunt of surprise from Ezra. 

“Best get over there,” Vin said softly, “before Ezra bites Nathan's arm off.” 

Chris cut his eyes to Vin, who was trying to grin. But the corners of his eyes were pulled tight and the knuckles of his fist, still wrapped around that length of wood, were white. “Need to get you up to Nathan's,” he said instead. 

As if on cue, Josiah stepped into view. “I think I got that, Brother Chris. If you could get over there and draw Ezra's fire, we might get Nathan over here.” 

“Yeah, Chris, why don't you go draw Ezra's fire?” Vin asked, and this time he did manage a grin, though it didn't last but just long enough for Chris to see it. 

Damned tracker. 

Chris sighed but got to his feet, still staring down. Before he could ask, Vin nodded slightly, then said by way of answer to the unspoken question, “Josiah will help me get up the stairs, and Nathan will slather me with that concoction of his, and I'll be right as rain by the time the sun comes up.” 

“I, however, will be drowned in my own blood by then,” Ezra said loudly from where he sat, trying, feebly, to push Nathan's hand away. “We do not get paid enough for this.” 

Chris opened his mouth to rebut but before he could say anything, there was a chorus from Nathan, Josiah, and Vin: “We all get paid the same thing, we all take the same risks.” 

He turned to glare at them, but couldn't dredge up any irritation, as Ezra was glaring at them over the top of the rag he had once more pressed against his nose. His hair was in disarray, strands sticking up in all directions, and the collar of his shirt was open, the button hanging by a thread. There was blood on his vest and it, too, was open, his undershirt visible beneath his shirt. 

He looked most unlike himself. Or, at least, most unlike his public self. 

He looked a lot, Chris thought, like the he did in the morning, when his face was pressed into a pillow and his bed shirt was racked up on his shoulders. 

It wasn't the image he needed now, but the look on Ezra's face was so familiar. It was the same glare Chris got when he suggested getting up early. 

There was only one thing that Ezra got up early for, only one thing that lessened the intensity of that glare . . . 

Chris drew in a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts under control.   
Nathan stepped away from Ezra and said, “Chris, do you think you can get him upstairs? Probably be a good idea for him to get to bed – though not to low. Needs to prop up on some pillows for a while, 'til the bleeding stops. Some cool water will help with the swelling, though I reckon you know that.” He didn't wait for Chris to answer but instead, he walked over to where Josiah was helping Vin to his feet. Vin was leaning heavily on the other man, his face tight with the effort of moving. “Let's get you to bed, too,” Nathan said, shaking his head. 

Chris moved over to Ezra as the others moved slowly toward the door. Ezra had his eyes closed again and his head tilted further back, the cloth bunched under his nose. 

“You heard the man,” Chris said, staring down. “Best get you to bed.” 

Ezra's eyes blinked open and he met Chris' gaze. One eyebrow arched as he said, “I do believe I heard the medical recommendation. Though I do not see how I will be able to sleep in this pain.” 

Chris leaned closer, as if looking at Ezra's face. “Who said anything about sleep?” he asked softly, too softly for the men who were stumbling loudly out of the swinging doors to hear. 

Both of Ezra's eyebrows rose as he said, “I must be still. How else will the bleeding stop?”

Chris grinned, pleased to see the blood rising along Ezra's throat and into his cheeks. He preferred it to remain there. “I guess you'll just have to work on not moving. I'll try to give you something else to think about.” 

Ezra's eyebrows fell as he glared up at Chris. “So I must go from this abuse to – to – to providing you with entertainment? I hardly deem that comfort for this egregious violation to my person - “

“Are you saying you can't handle it?” Chris reached up with one hand, gently moving the cloth so that he could casually run the tip of one finger over Ezra's cheek bone. In a whisper, he went on, “I didn't think you were so opposed to violations of your person. But if that's the case . . . .” He stood up and stepped back, grinning as Ezra's eyes widened and he dropped the cloth into his lap. 

“I merely said,” he started, then, looking around, he lowered his voice. Inez was, after all, in the kitchen, where Chris had sent her when she'd started throwing things at all of them in her anger over the destruction to the saloon's property. She'd calm down soon enough. “I merely pointed out,” he amended more quietly, “that I am not currently in a position where I could appreciate such attentions.”

Chris arched one eyebrow, knowing that he had Ezra exactly where he wanted him. Well, almost. 

“That might be because you are still sitting here, when Nathan said that you're supposed to go to bed. Laying down, on your back. Still.”

Ezra looked as if he would make more of it, his mouth opening to form words – until he finally got the point. 

“Unless you don't think you can be still?” Chris continued, leaning in again. 

“Is that a challenge?” Ezra said so softly that Chris could barely hear it. 

He shrugged. “Reckon it is. Think you're up to it? Or do you have more bitching you want to do first?”

Ezra drew in a deep breath, his features trying to form themselves into his expression of offense. But that caused him to have to move his nose, which did not appreciate being moved. Before the expression could settle, the intake of breath turned into a long hiss, he closed his eyes, and his jaw closed tightly. 

“Good,” Chris said, putting a hand under one of Ezra's arms and encouraging him to stand. “Didn't want to hear any more of it anyway.”

As they walked to the foot of the stairs, Ezra moving a little stiffly but not shaking off Chris' grip on his arm, Ezra said, “We still do not get paid enough for this.” The words were muffled by the rag, but Chris had expected them. 

“Then think of this as an added bonus. Just for you, one time only.”

Ezra sighed, but he seemed to move a little faster as they mounted the stairs. “Until the next time I am injured?”

“One time only,” Chris repeated, though he was smiling. Negotiating was a sure sign that Ezra was all right. And in a few minutes, he'd be even better. Though he'd still be bitching. Because he had to be still. 

Even if Chris had to tie him to the bed . . .


End file.
